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E. Kno. I would not stand in Downright's state, then, if you meet him, for the wealth of any one street in London.

Bob. Why, Sir, you mistake! If he were here now, by this welkin I would not draw my weapon on him! Let this gentleman do his mind; but I will bastinado him, by the bright sun, wherever I meet him.

Mat. Faith, and I'll have a fling at him, at my distance.

Enter DOWNRIGHT, walking along. E. Kno. Dear me! look ye where he is; yonder he goes.

Dow. What peevish luck have I, I cannot meet with these bragging scamps.

Bob. It's not he, is it?
E. Kno. Yes, faith, it is he!
Mat. I'll be hanged then, if that were he.
E. Kno. I assure you, that was he.
Steph. Upon my reputation, it was he.

Bob. Had I thought it had been he, he must not have gone 80; but I can hardly be induced to believe it was he yet.

E. Kno. That I think, Sir. But see, he is come again!

Dow. O, Pharaoh's foot! Have I found you? Come, draw; to your tools. Draw, or I'll thresh you.

Bob. Gentlemen of valor, I do believe in thee, hear me
Dow. Draw your weapon, then.
Bob. Tall man,

I never thought on’t till now; body of me!
I had a warrant of the peace served on me even now, as I
came along, by a water-bearer; this gentleman saw it, Mr.
Matthew.
Dow. What? You will not draw, then ?

[He beats him and disarms him. MATTHEW runs away. Bob. Hold, hold, under thy favor, forbear.

Dow. Prate again, as you like this. You'll control the point! Your consort is gone; had he staid, he had shared with you, Sir.

[Exit DOWNRIGHT. E. Kno. Twenty, and kill 'em : twenty more, kill them too! Ha, ha!

THE OYSTER. SOMERVILLE.

1. Two comrades, as grave authors say,

(But in what chapter, page, or line,

Ye critics, if ye please define,)
Had found an oyster in their way.

2. Contest and foul debate arose :

Both view'd at once with greedy eyes,

Both challeng’d the delicious prize, And high words soon improved to blows.

3. Actions on actions hence succeed,

Each hero's obstinately stout;

Green bags and parchments fly about, Pleadings are drawn, and counsel feed.

4. The parson of the place, good man!

Whose kind and charitable heart

In human ills still bore a part,
Thrice shook his head and then began :

5. " Neighbors and friends, refer to me

This doughty matter in dispute,

I'll soon decide th' important suit,
And finish all without a fee."

6. Give me the oyster then— tis well,”–

He opens it, and at one sup

Gulps the contested trifle up,
And smiling, gives to each a shell.

7. “ Henceforth let foolish discord cease,

Your oyster's good as e’er was eat;

I thank you for my dainty treat;
God bless you both, and live in peace.”

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MORAL.

8. Ye men of Norfolk and of Wales,

From this learn common sense ;
Nor thrust your neighbors into jails

For ev'ry slight offense.

9. Banish those vermin of debate,

That on your substance feed;
The knaves who now are serv'd in plate,

Would starve, if fools agreed.

GOOD MATERIAL FOR A BAD LAWYER.

1. Little Eddy, on his way to school, frequently loitered by a small stream which he was obliged to pass, to witness the gambols of his playmates while bathing—the water being of sufficient depth in some places for that purpose. Fearing some accident might befall him, his mother told him never to venture near, and in strong terms, not to go into the water.

2. One day, however, being overcome by temptation, and the urgent solicitations of boys older than himself, he yielded to their importunities and his own wishes, and for an hour entered into their aquatic sports right heartily.

3. But as ill luck would have it, while dressing himself, by some mismanagement he put on his shirt wrong side out, entirely unnoticed by him at the time; but the quick eye of his mother detected it, and divined the reason at once. Before retiring, she called the little boy to her side to repeat

his little prayer.

While on his knees she took the opportunity to reprove him for disobeying her commands :

4. “Edmund,” said she,“ how is it that the buttons are on the inside of your shirt-collar ?"

“I don't know. Isn't that the way, mother ?” “No, my son. You have disobeyed me I am sorry to see. You have been in swimming, else how could you have turned

your shirt ?

The little boy felt that his mother had spoken the truth, and was for a moment silent. However, a satisfactory explanation, as he thought, soon occurred. With a triumphant look, and a bold voice, he replied:

“ Mother, I-guess I turned it gettin' over the fence.”

AN APOLOGY FOR THE RICH.-MARY BARBER

1. “All-bounteous Heaven,” Castalio cries,

With bended knees, and lifted eyes,
“ When shall I have the power to bless,
And raise up merit in distress ?”
How do our hearts deceive us here!
He gets ten thousand pounds a year.
With this the pious youth is able
To build, and plant, and keep a table.
But then, the poor he must not treat;

Who asks the wretch, that wants to eat ?
2. Alas ! to ease their woes he wishes,

But cannot live without ten dishes.
Though six would serve as well, 'tis true;
But, one must live as others do.
He now feels wants unknown before,
Wants still increasing with his store.
The good Castalio must provide
Brocade, and jewels, for his bride;
Her toilet shines with plate embossed,

What sums her lace and linen cost!
3. The clothes, that must his person grace,

Shine with embroidery and lace.
The costly pride of Persian looms,
And Guido's paintings, grace his rooms.

His wealth Castalio will not waste,
But must have everything in taste.
He's an economist confessed,

But what he buys must be the best.
4. For common use, a set of plate;

Old china, when he dines in state.
A coach and six, to take the air,
Besides a chariot, and chair.
All these important calls supplied,
Calls of necessity, not pride,
His income's regularly spent ;
He scarcely saves to pay his rent.
No man alive would do more good,
Or give more freely, if he could !
He grieves, whene'er the wretched su
But what can poor Castalio do?
Would Heaven but send ten thousand more,
He'd give

just as he did before !

THE BIBLIOMANIA, OR BOOK-MADNESS.-D'ISRAELI.

1. The “ Bibliomania,” or the collecting an enormous heap of books without intelligent curiosity, has, since libraries have existed, infected weak minds, who imagine that they themselves acquire knowledge, when they keep it on their shelves. Their motley libraries have been called the mad houses of the human mind; and again the tomb of books, when the possessor will not communicate them, and coffins them up in the cases of his library-and as it was facetiously observed, these collections are not without a “ Lock on the human Understand

ing."*

* John Locke, to whom reference is made in this witty remark, was born in 1632. His principal work is entitled “ An Essay on the Human Understanding."

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